


Blame the Tequila: Chapter Six

by gemini_cole



Series: Blame the Tequila [6]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can Frankie and Tom handle the outcome of a tequila-fueled one night stand?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame the Tequila: Chapter Six

 

            The noise was deafening. A pounding shook the walls as Frankie ran from room to room looking for a place to hide. Just before the walls collapsed, she woke with a start. The pounding in her dream had turned out to be someone pounding at her door.  Frankie squinted at the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. Stumbling from her bed, she mumbled, “Jesus h Christ. When did my flat turn into fucking Grand Central station?” Going on tiptoe to look in the peephole, she swore softly to herself again as she unlocked and peaked out the door.

            “Go away Cal. It’s 3:30 in the morning. I’m sleeping.”

            “But baby, I misss youuu. Lemme come home.”

            Opening the door wider, Frankie was dismayed to see that he carried his helmet. Knowing the answer, she still asked, “How did you get here, Cal?”

            “My bike, I parked it outside on the walk. Who took my spot?”

            Frankie gritted her teeth. “It’s not your spot anymore.”

            Cal elbowed past her, stumbling into the hallway. He dropped his helmet onto the floor and shrugged out of his leather jacket. Frankie tried to breathe through her mouth, as so not to be overwhelmed by the stench of stale smoke and beer, but still, her stomach pitched and roiled.

            Frankie watched as Cal stumbled down the hallway. She stooped to pick up his jacket and helmet, following him. She set his things on the coffee table as she announced, “I’m calling you a taxi. Wait here.”

            With an agility that belied his drunkenness, Cal darted forward, cutting Frankie off as she went to grab her cellphone. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he tried to tuck her errant curls behind her ear as he towered over her.

            “Why would you do that to me, baby? I’m home. Let’s go to bed.” He stooped to kiss her, but Frankie turned her head at the last second. Pulling back, she tried to extricate herself to no avail. She used to like the way he held her, but that was so long ago and everything was different now.

            “Cal, you have to let me go. We’re done. We’ve been done for a while now. I’ve moved on.”

            Cal took a step backwards, swaying gently. “You’ve moved on? Is there someone else in my bed?” He moved towards the bedroom door, his fist clenching.

            Frankie sighed as she stood in front of him. She put her hands on the planes of his chest and shoved hard, succeeding in moving him backwards until he flopped down on the couch. Frankie perched on the edge of the coffee table, just out of reach, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to find the exact words that would make him listen. Finally realizing that it didn’t matter how she said it, she just blurted out, “I’m pregnant, Cal. I’m having a baby.”

            Cal’s eyes opened wider than Frankie ever thought possible. He didn’t move a muscle, but pointed a finger at her, gesturing towards her still-flat midsection.

            “You? There’s a baby in there? No!” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “It’s not…is it, mine?”

            “Cal, I’m only 8 weeks pregnant. We haven’t seen each other in almost six months.”

            Cal stared at her blankly.

            Frankie sighed, mentally chastising herself. “ _See, Frankie, this is what happens when you let your lady parts do all your thinking for you.”_ She looked back at Cal, only to find him passed out on the couch. “So much for calling you a cab, huh Cal? I guess I can let you crash on the couch for old time’s sake.” She grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and laid it over him, then went back to her room, and promptly fell back to sleep.

 

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

            Tom staggered up the stairs, panting a little. The box he was carrying wasn’t getting any lighter. Finally he came to Frankie’s door, and nudged the bell with his elbow, as he re-adjusted the box once again, He heard the door open and said, “I saw this online and-“

            ‘Who the blazes are you?”

            Tom looked up to find a tall, half-naked man with dark hair and deep blue eyes in the doorway, holding a spatula. He was so startled; he promptly dropped the box, cursing when it landed on his foot. Cursing, he bent to pick up the box as he replied, “I might ask you the same thing!”

            Cal leaned against the open doorway, regarding Tom insolently. “I’m Cal, Frankie’s boyfriend. And you are?”

            “Tom Hiddleston.”

            Both men turned at the sound of Frankie’s voice. Standing there in her pajamas and bathrobe, she crossed her arms as she watched the two men size each other up. Cal was the first to speak.

            “Chessie. Who the fuck is this?”

            Frankie sighed. “That’s Tom. He’s the father.”

            “Your father?”

            “The father of the _baby_ , Cal. Jesus Christ.”

            “What baby?”

            “I told you last night.”

            Tom interrupted, “He spent the _night_?”

            “Why shouldn’t I, you wanker? It’s my apartment too!” Cal sneered.

            “ENOUGH!” Frankie yelled. “If we’re going to have this fight, let’s not do it where all the neighbors can here, good god!”

            Cal slammed the door behind Tom as he stalked past her, dropping the box on the kitchen table. He couldn’t help but notice that they were clearly in the middle of breakfast. _Cozy_ , Tom fumed to himself. He waited as Frankie made her way into the kitchen; Tom was slightly mollified to see a somewhat mystified look on Frankie’s face. She stopped, turning to Cal.

            “What is all this?”

            “I made you breakfast, babe. Just like I used to.”

            Frankie sighed, and turned away, reaching for the teakettle. There was an oppressive silence as she made herself a cup. Finally she turned back to face them, leaning against the kitchen sink.

            “First things first: Yes, Cal spent the night. _On the couch._ ” Before Cal could interject. “Secondly: Cal? You don’t live here anymore. This isn’t your apartment, it never was. You stayed her and had a drawer and a fucking parking spot. That does not a household make.”

            “Babe-“

            “I’m not finished. Clearly you were too inebriated to pay attention last night. Yes I am pregnant, and yes, Tom is the father. You haven’t been around for more than six months, Cal. So you don’t get to just swoop in and try to pick up where you left off. It doesn’t work like that. In fact, I think you should go. Now,” she turned her gaze towards Tom, “what are you doing here?”

            Before Tom could respond, Cal fairly exploded.

            “Who the FUCK do you think you are? Are you fucking seriously turning me out, after all I did for you? Look at all of this!” Jabbing his finger at her, “You are fucking nothing without me. Just a sad, miserable little backwoods cunt. I wouldn’t take you back if you fucking paid me.” Turning to Tom, he spat out, “watch out for this one, she lies through her fucking teeth, the heartless bitch.” Sneering at her as he grabbed his things, “you weren’t even a worthwhile piece of ass.” He slammed the door behind him, and somewhere in her flat, Frankie heard something fall off the wall and break.

            “Charming. Tell me, darling. Is that your normal type?”

            “Fuck you, you judgmental prick.”

            “No really, I just want to know. Is any of what he said true?”

            “My past is none of your concern,” Frankie wrapped her robe tighter around her, clutching her mug.

            “We’re about to have a child together. It very much is my concern. Or maybe we aren’t?”

            “What the _hell_ does that mean?”

            “It means that I showed up to your flat today and a half-naked man answered your door. So how many more of them are going to show up over the next few months, Frankie?”

            She slammed her mug down on the counter. Her fingers itched to throw the frying pan that was on the stove at his head. “Fuck you, Hiddleston. Fuck you. _How fucking dare you. “_

“I want a DNA test.”

            “Excuse me?” Frankie spun around to stare at him incredulously.

            “You heard me. I want a DNA test. Immediately. If I’m getting set up for humiliation, I want to know now. You can hardly blame me for wanting one, given how we met, and all this new information.”

            Frankie strode past him and yanked open the door. “Fine. Get out. I’ll give you your fucking DNA test, and it’ll be the last goddamn thing I do. So much for peaceful co-parenting. Now get the fuck out.”

            He refused to meet her eyes as he left. Frankie slammed the door behind him, and slid down to the floor, unable to hold back her tears anymore.

 

           


End file.
